


Yoghurts

by Nothing_but_the_Rain



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:04:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nothing_but_the_Rain/pseuds/Nothing_but_the_Rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the fuck is this bendy shit all about?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yoghurts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NoiraKai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoiraKai/gifts).



> For my dear Noraikai, your very very late birthday gift.

Cain was angry. No, beyond angry. Fuming. Boiling anger roiled through his veins, like the ocean in a storm; grey, flint and green waves, topped with white foam like the spittle at the corners of an old man’s mouth as he raged against the injustices’ of faded youth. At least that is how Cain imagined the stormy oceans of Earth looked – so far he’d only ever seen Earth on the vids when he was at school (when he’d atteneded) and later during basic when they’d given educational briefings of what they were fighting to protect.

Either way, back to his seething anger and hang the simile!

He wanted to destroy something and soon.

But who to aim his anger at?

There were so many culprits that he didn’t know who to target first.

Encke? Abel? Keeler?

He clenched his fists and ground his jaw so tight that his teeth gave a squeaked warning in protest as the pressure threaten to send them to medical for repairs again.

Encke, next to him, turned his head in question at the noise. His eyes opened wide as the sudden movement made him lose his balance, causing him to grab for Cain as he went down, taking his subordinate with him.

Naked toes appeared before Cain’s face. They looked up from the human pretzel they had made on the floor into the smirking face of Keeler, standing over them in loose purple pants, hands on slender hips, trying and failing not to look amused and triumphant.

“What was it you said Encke?” Keeler dropped his voice to mimic Encke’s deep baritone with eerie accuracy, “ _I don’t see what’s so hard about this yoga. Looks like a piece of piss; my Fighters and I could do it standing on our heads. We’re at the peak of our physical fitness.”_

“And then,” Keeler continued in his own voice with an edge of malice and a fair helping of self righteous glee, “I could have sworn you murmured something about, ‘swivel chair heroes’ and ‘unfit’, in relation to _my_ Navigators. And yet, here you two are, and you can’t even manage tree pose!” he all but crowed. Somewhere near the front of the room Puck made an affronted noise.

Cain, who was in the process of both untangling himself from Encke and extracting himself from the situation the Lieutenant had got them into, glanced up at Encke’s face, pretty sure he’d never seen it so pale. Not even that time they had gone on leave together and taken Ganymede Magic Mushrooms. The Lieutenant swallowed and gave Cain an almost pleading look, before turning back to Keeler, “Now Keeler,” Encke said attempting to plecate his pilot, “I may have had a few too many drinks that night...”

Cain, having untangled himself finally, scanned the room, making sure the exits hadn’t been blocked by angry yoga band wielding Navigators.

Keeler drew himself into his full command stance, “Don’t give me excuses! I want... no, _we_ demand apologise! From both of you!”

Cain’s head whipped around, “Don’t involve me in this!” he quickly added a conciliatory “Sir.” But was unable to withhold a sulky, “I didn’t say nothing about nobody.” He then jumped lithely to his feet, a far more dignified position he felt; if dignity could be found whilst wearing a pair of what felt like pyjama trousers; than sitting at the feet of an angry blond commanding officer.

He’d decided. He would kill Encke, then Keeler. Then he’d put Abel over his knee and punish him for not warning him.

***

He should have known it was a trap when Encke had ordered him to come to training in the Navigators’ area at 07:00 hours. When did they ever train in the Navie’s area?

He’d arrived to find Abel and several other blond identikit Navigators milling around in pyjama pants with chiming, plinky-plink music playing in the background. He was about to turn and ~~run~~ walk out when Abel walked over to him, hips swaying slightly in the loose fabric and a smile playing over his scarred lips, holding a bundle of fabric in his arms, a sight that both stopped Cain in his tracks, stopped his brain functioning properly and made him unaccountably nervous. Cain backed up a pace, causing himself to bump into Encke’s broad chest. For such a large man he sure could walk quietly, Cain thought and not for the first time.

“Don’t even think about leaving, Reliant.” Encke’d growled in his ear as Able handed them both yoga pants, biting his lip to hold back his laughter at the look of horror on Cain’s face.

***

No wonder the big guy had needed back up. Cain would never dream of slating the fitness level of the Navies... not where any of them could hear him anyway. Not to their _faces_. Certainly not to Keeler’s face. That one knew how to hold a grudge.

Now here he was wondering if he could discretely edge to the door without directly disobeying any orders from either of his commanding officers.

The argument between the two lieutenants was heating up and had the smell of well trodden ground.

Cain looked over at Abel who was standing near the curly haired one. Catching Abel’s eye he nodded his head sharply toward the exit and mouthed, _Breakfast?_

The other Navigators near them clearly thought Cain’s plan a winner, and as one they all started moving stealthily out of the room.

“Hells, Abel.” Cain started as he and the gaggle of Navigators walked rapidly down the corridor and away from the training room and the raised voices of the lead team. “You do that bendy shit every morning? No wonder you’re so agile in b... _ouff_!” he let out a pained huff of air as Abel’s elbow connected with his ribs.

“We don’t do it every morning!” Abel replied as they entered the lift, “Just twice a week. Although after what Encke said to Keeler, he’s been trying to get us doing it every morning. Plus a run at lunch time _and_ circuits three evenings a week!”

They exited the lift on the level of the mess hall and rec rooms. Judging by the noise bouncing down the corridor the mess hall was full.

Curly hair piped up. “Honestly, when Keeler gets a bee in his bonnet we all pay for it. I swear I’m aching in places I never knew I could ache. I’m more of a swimmer, truth be told.”

“Maybe Encke was right then; you guys could do with some more exercise!” Cain scoffed before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Ethos went pink. Abel’s sharp intake of breath made Cain realise he was going to pay for that comment later... and probably for the rest of the week; defiantly until his balls went blue.

“Ahhh, come on Princess!” He wheedled as they turned into the mess. “I didn’t mean...”

The crescendo of babbling voices quickly petered out from the dark uniformed side of the mess, rapidly replaced with hoots and woops and cries along the lines of, “Yeah Cain, purple’s quite your colour!” and “Your chair m’lady!”

His mouth hung open. He looked down sharply at his black vest top and further down at his baggy purple yoga pants. He felt the anger seep back along his veins and colour his cheeks. Clenching his fists he looked at Able who was making his way towards the food and the white clothed side of the room.

Abel looked back over his shoulder, smile tight, “Oh, by the way Cain, you forgot your uniform.”

He watched Abel walk away from him in stunned horror. No comment was made by their fellow Navigators about their attire Cain noticed bitterly.

“Mother fucker.” Cain mumbled under his breath as he walked over to where Deimos was standing with a tray for him, “Fucking prickly fucking Navigators.” He mutter some more. He took the tray from Deimos, ignoring his raised brow and his ‘your arse looks good in those pants’ look. Back straight, pridefully determined to brazen it out, he walked to the tables, took a seat and started on the reconstituted scrambled egg and... “What’s this shit supposed to be?” He asked Deimos, waving a cigar shaped yellowy lump around as he spoke. Deimos shrugged one shoulder.

 “Corn bread.” Praxis muttered as he walked past to dump his tray at the waste disposal. “Eat it boy, it’s good for you.”

“Fuck off Praxis.” Cain mumbled round a mouthful of corn bread. Could today get any fucking worse, he wondered to himself as he swallowed a mouthful of coffee.

“RELIANT!” Encke bellowed across the mess.

Cain winced. Looking over his shoulder he saw an enraged Encke resplendent in turquoise yoga pants. With a flash of precognition he realise his day surely could get worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for eveyone going a bit OOC.  
> Puck belongs to the wonderful A2MOM.  
> I may have nicked some dialogue from Aliens.


End file.
